Even Assassins Get The Sniffles
by BrotherBat
Summary: Damian's sick, so Dick convinces Jason and Tim to help take care of him. Cute brotherly fluff. Chapter Two: This time Tim is sick and he's the one that has to be convinced to let everyone take care of him.
1. Chapter 1

**Damian's POV**

"Master Damian, it's time to get up I'm afraid."

Mph! My head...

"Master Damian."

"A few more minutes, Pennyworth..." I say, unmoving from the comfort of my bed, my eyes still closed.

"No excuses, young sir. There was no patrol last night, so it's time to get up and have breakfast before we begin with your studies and-"

"Uuuugh!" I reply as I lift myself into a sitting position, eyes still closed, before letting out a cough.

"Hm, are you feeling okay, young sir?" Pennyworth asks before I feel him put his hand on my forehead. I flinch away when I realize how freezing cold it is.

"You're burning up," he says as he thankfully removes his hand from my face, "I'm sorry to have bothered you before, you must tell me when you're feeling unwell."

"I'm not sick, Pennyworth. Just-" I let out a much louder cough than last time, "-tired."

"I'd imagine so, here," he says as he places his hands on my shoulders and gently guides me back down to my bed, "You rest for now, I'm going to prepare just what you need for breakfast."

* * *

 **Dick's POV**

I stretch as I walk into the kitchen to see the usual morning buffet, before turning my head towards Alfred as I notice him preparing something else.

"Good morning, Alfred."

"Morning, Master Dick, are you feeling okay?" he asks, turning away from his preparations to inspect me.

"Fine, thanks... are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine. But Master Damian is feeling under the weather, he has quite a fever," he tells me before turning back to his food, "So I'm preparing a more suitable breakfast to take up to him."

"Oh no, poor Dami. I could take it up to him for you, plus I have the time keep him company," I say as I start to arrange my own breakfast from the buffet.

"No need, sir. He's most likely already asleep. Besides," he turns his head back to me, "we wouldn't want you to get sick as well."

"I'll be careful," I say with a smile.

"Very well, make sure you are," he warns as he hands me a tray.

* * *

 **Damian's POV**

"How you feeling, Dami?"

"Mm?"

Grayson? Why's he in my room? I told Pennyworth I was tired. I open my eyes to see him placing a tray on my bedside table. He notices me staring at him and smiles.

"I brought soup, Alfred always knows just how to get rid of a nasty cold."

"I'm not sick."

How many times do I have to tell people?

"Just because you punch bad guys occasionally, doesn't make you immune to getting sick. Trust me, I know," he says with a chuckle.

"I'm tired, I don't want visitors," I grind out as I suddenly realize how hoarse my throat is.

"Well we wouldn't want Alfred's soup to go to waste after he made it especially for you. So how about you have some and then I'll let you get back to sleep, huh?"

"Will it make you go away?" I ask.

"I promise I'll let you sleep."

That didn't answer my question, but talking is making my throat feel even worse at this point.

"Fine."

"Come on, I'll help you up."

I glare at him and sit up myself. He looks at me and pouts for a second, I hate it when he does that. He then adjusts my pillow behind me and lightly pushes me up against it, before placing the tray over my lap.

"Now, do you need help-"

"Are you about to ask if I need help eating?" I ask giving him as fierce a glare as I can.

He smiles in response, "You know, it's hard for you to be intimidating with that bed head," he says as he ruffles my hair. I attempt to growl but all that does is send me into a coughing fit.

I decide the soup could help with my throat, so I start to eat it. Meanwhile, Grayson goes to get me some water and occasionally wipes a damp cloth on my forehead, usually when my eyes start to droop. I ignore him until I'm done eating, at which point he puts the tray back on the table.

"You still want to sleep?" he asks.

I nod in response.

He lifts me up, I'm too tired to bother resisting at this point. He adjusts my pillow back to where it was and places me carefully back onto my bed.

I close my eyes.

* * *

 **Jason's POV**

"You've got to be kidding me," I say as I cross my arms.

"Come on, Jason, please. What are you worried about? He's fast asleep."

"Exactly, Dick. He's asleep, so why do we need someone looking after him?" I reply.

"In case he wakes up and needs something. I heard his voice earlier, he wouldn't be able to yell for anyone," he says as he starts to pout.

"I hate it when you do that."

"You know I'd stay with him for longer, but I just got a text-"

"Stop. I'll do it, I suppose when the little demon's asleep is the best time for me to put my shift in. But you owe me."

"Deal."

* * *

 **Damian's POV**

Hmm, why do I still feel so bad? I must have had hours of sleep by now. Oh well, at least Grayson's probably gone-

"Hey brat, you expecting someone else?"

Todd is standing in my room, leaning against the window... I don't understand.

"I was-" I'm cut off by a coughing fit, so much for the soup helping. I sit up and give a sigh of relief when the coughing finally ceases.

"As I was saying, I was expecting to be alone."

"So you're not happy to have your big brother looking after you? Glad to know I'm appreciated."

"I'm not a child, Todd."

"Tell that to Dick. So do you want anything? A drink? Some food? I don't know."

"I'm fine, you can leave."

"Sorry, no can do. If I leave now, Dick has an excuse to back out of that favor he owes me."

"And I care about that because?"

"You don't have to care, but good luck getting rid of me in your current state."

I give up, I'm stuck with an imbecile in my room for the day I suppose. May as well do something while I'm here.

"Todd, can you give me my sketchbook and pencils, they're in the drawer of that cabinet over there. Make sure not to look inside."

"What? Me? Look inside something personal?" he says as he retrieves the sketchbook from the drawer, "Never."

"HEY-" I attempt to yell before I'm interrupted by more coughing as he starts to do exactly what I told him not to. By the time I'm finished, Todd has dropped it onto my lap.

"You're lucky you look so pathetic right now, otherwise I wouldn't have felt bad about looking a lot closer than that."

I scowl at Todd, before proceeding to try and ignore him while I continue a drawing from yesterday. That actually goes quite well as Todd ignores me too, choosing to spend time on his phone.

After about an hour, there's a knock on the door.

* * *

 **Tim's POV**

"But Dick, why do I have to do it too? Jason's probably got it handled."

"He's been there for hours now, Timmy," Dick replies from over the phone, "Any number of chaotic things could have happened without us knowing."

"Why did you send Jason in there in the first place if you don't trust him?"

"I do trust him, but I understand he has limits. Plus this is the perfect time for you and Damian to try and bond, there's no way for him to back out and he needs help."

"What if I don't want to bond with him?"

"Well would you do it for me then?"

"Sigh. Fine, for you. Speak to you later, if the little demon hasn't killed me."

"He couldn't even if he wanted to right now," Dick replies with a laugh.

"Well that's comforting..."

"See you later, Timmy."

* * *

 **Damian's POV**

"Your shift's over, Jason" Drake says through the door in his typical whiny fashion.

"Finally," he says as he opens the door, "I got a few hours of peace while he was sleeping. You're not so lucky, should have taken the earlier shift, genius."

"Unlike you, I'm not scared of a little babysitting," he replies.

"Ahem! I'm right here, and I'm not a child," I inform them.

"Whatever you say," Todd says as he leaves the room. Which leaves me and Drake alone, just as I was getting used to Todd not being a nuisance.

"So," he starts, "Did Jason give you any water or food?"

"He offered, I didn't feel the need to accept."

"You need to stay hydrated you know, especially with a fever. I'll get you a glass of water."

I ignore Drake and add the finishing touches to my art.

"Here, take a sip of this," he says as he thrusts a glass of water into my face.

"You're lucky you didn't spill any of that on my sketchbook," I warn him. He responds by moving my sketchbook to the other side of the bed.

"There. Now, drink."

I look at the glass, only now realizing how dry my mouth feels. Perhaps for once, Drake has a point, just a sip could be nice. I grab the glass carefully with both hands, mindful of my weaker than usual arms, and raise it to my lips before taking a gulp, and another, and another. Soon I have to stop for breath, before raising it up again, only to feel no water. I look at the glass to see it's empty, Drake then grabs it out of my hands.

"Told you that you needed to stay hydrated. You feel better?"

I look at him as I'm still breathing heavily from drinking all that water, "Shut up."

"I'm going to take that as a thank you for knowing what I need better than I do," he says as he places the glass on the table, "told you I was good at babysitting."

I just stare at him, attempting to make him feel uncomfortable. It doesn't seem to work as well as it usually would.

"So based on how thirsty you were, I'm guessing you're probably hungry too. So I'm going to get you a snack, bananas sound good?" he asks.

"Do as you wish," I reply, and with that he leaves the room. I decide to lie down and use the brief time he will be gone to actually relax. But before I know it, Drake has returned. I keep my eyes closed and my breathing steady in an attempt to fool him into thinking I'm sleeping.

I hear him stop at my bedside before saying, "You know, you're much cuter when you're asleep."

I can't help but involuntarily grimace at that remark.

"Got ya," he says as I open my eyes, "come on, I'll help you sit up so you can eat."

I sit up myself before he can touch me, then turn to give him a glare. He sticks his tongue out at me before handing me a banana. I attempt to peel it, but my hand just slips away from lack of strength. I scrunch up my face in frustration and try again before Drake leans over and wraps his hand over mine, helping me peel it. I stare at him the whole time as he gives me a condescending grin.

I eat the banana none the less. When I'm done, Drake hands me another one, already peeled this time. This carries on for a while until I'm unsure how many I've eaten. Drake leaves the room to dispose of the remains, then doesn't return for several minutes. Eventually, I come to the conclusion that he feels he has completed his task and won't be coming back. I breathe a sigh of relief before the door begins to open.

"Hey Dami," says Grayson as he enters the room, alone thankfully, "You feeling any better? Have the others been taking good care of you?"

"-tt-" I reply.

"I thought so," he says with that trademark smile again, "Sorry I had to leave earlier, had some urgent business with Babs. But I know just how to make it up to you."

He pulls a chair next to my bed.

"I have a movie I bet you're going to love, want to watch it together?"

"Do I have a choice?" I ask.

"You always have a choice, Dami. You say you're done and we stop."

A little while after we start watching, I realize Grayson was right, this film is rather enjoyable. But as it goes on, I struggle to pay attention, and my eye lids start to get harder to keep open. At some point I must have fallen asleep as I jolt awake when he puts his hand on my shoulder.

"I think we're done," he says, "time for you to get ready for bed."

He helps me out of my bed and over to the bathroom, where I brush my teeth and use the toilet. When I re-enter my room, he instantly lifts me off my feet and carries to my bed. As my head touches the pillow, I can't stop my eyes from closing.

"Goodnight Damian."

"Goodnight Grayson," I mumble in return.

"I know today was crummy, but I hope you know just how much we all care about you, and I hope you feel better tomorrow," he says.

Today was "crummy" as Grayson puts it, but I suppose it's nice to know my brothers want to care for me when I'm unwell. I think I would do the same for them. Yeah, that's a nice thought...

The last thing I feel is Grayson planting a kiss on my forehead before I drift into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**So this was meant to be a one shot, but I got a great suggestion to write a chapter about Tim being sick this time. So here it is.**

* * *

 **Alfred's POV**

"I promise I'm not sick, Alfred! Just let me- Whoa... since when did you have four arms?" Master Timothy says as I attempt to block him from leaving his bed, which is harder than I anticipated.

"I can assure you I only have two arms, young sir. You're just a little delirious from the fever, which is precisely why you should stay in bed."

He looks up at me with a face of confusion before transitioning it to one of concentration.

"Oh, you're right. You only have two arms..."

"That is correct. Now why don't you lie down, that's it," I say as he starts to ease back into his bed, "and I will go and get you what you need."

"You're the best, Alfred," he smiles up at me.

"I try, young sir. I shall be right back."

* * *

 **Dick's POV**

"How's he doing, Alfred?" I ask as he returns to the kitchen.

"He sounds quite nasally and he's a bit delirious due to the fever at the moment, but hopefully once he's had some medication, he'll be feeling a little better," he says as he looks into the medicine cabinet.

"Delirious?"

"He asked about when I had gained two extra arms while refusing to lie in his bed. I eventually got him to settle down, but I can only hope he's still there."

"Sounds like a struggle, I'd be happy to help out."

"Oh I'm sure he'll calm down soon enough, but if you wouldn't mind watching him while I arrange this and his breakfast, that would be a great help."

"Of course! I'll go make sure he hasn't wandered anywhere, god forbid he goes into Damian's room in that state."

* * *

 **Tim's POV**

"Dick? Why are you-" I let out a sudden sneeze, "-here?" I ask, looking up at him from my bed.

"Just to look after you, Timmy," he replies as he ruffles my hair.

"I don't need looking after, I'm fine. Alfred's just getting his two arms in a twist," I say, waving Dick's hand away.

"Maybe he is, but better safe than sorry, right?" he gives me a smile.

I turn my head away and cross my arms, "Why does no one believe me when I tell them I'm not sick."

"Well you did tell Alfred he had four arms..."

I don't reply, continuing to look away.

"Hey, what's that?" he asks as he grabs my arm.

"What's what? Is there something there?" I start to panic.

"Is that? A fourth arm! Quickly, we have to remove it!" Dick yells as he starts to tickle my side. I can't help but laugh, I try to roll away, but Dick's hands follow me wherever I go.

"Stop!" I beg, now crying from laughter.

"Okay, okay. I think it's gone," he replies, as we both pant for air.

After we rest for a brief moment, Dick gently lifts me back to the correct side of the bed before fixing up the covers we've just made a mess of.

"Now, seriously Timmy. You are sick, whether you want to admit it or not, so why don't you just let me take care of you for a while?"

"Because I can take care of myself," I reply.

"Yeah, I suppose so," he says as he starts to stroke my hair, "but isn't it more fun this way?"

That's quite nice actually, maybe he has a point...

"Oh look, Timmy. Breakfast's here."

"Mmmm so hungry," I Immediately try to sit up, wobbling a little as I do before leaning onto my headboard. Dick adjusts my pillow behind my back while Alfred places a tray on my lap. It's got a bowl of soup on it, and a glass of water with a pill beside it.

I look up at Alfred, "What's the pill for?" I ask. He looks at Dick, who says-

"It's standard issue with all soups these days, makes them tastier."

I look at them both suspiciously, "Really?"

"Totally," Dick replies.

I look at the pill, can't hurt to try I guess. I slowly grab the glass of water, spilling some as my arms shake before Alfred helps steady my grip with his hand.

"Sorry."

"Nothing to worry about, young sir," he assures me as I put the pill in my mouth and swallow it with the water. I give the glass back to Alfred as I gather a spoonful of soup and carefully bring it to my mouth.

"Wooooooow, that's fantastic soup!"

"Told you," Dick replies, before shrugging to Alfred. What's that about? Oh who cares! This soup is great!

When I'm done eating, Alfred removes the tray and I sigh peacefully.

"Why don't you try resting now, Timmy," Dick says as he places his hand on my shoulder and guides me back down to my bed.

"Yeah," I say with a yawn, "sure. That was some good soup..."

I close my eyes.

* * *

 **Damian's POV**

"Is he still sleeping?" I ask Grayson as he closes the door to Drake's room behind him.

"He is at the moment, yeah. He should be feeling bit better when he wakes up, hopefully not as delirious at least."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Don't worry about it," he replies, "he'll be fine."

"I wasn't worried."

"Of course not," he gives me a wink.

"-tt-"

"You can check in on him if you like? I've got a few things I could get done."

I stare at Grayson for a few seconds, to give the impression that I'm thinking it over.

"I suppose it is only fair," I eventually reply, "he did attempt to help me when I was unwell."

"You're a good brother, Dami."

* * *

 **Tim's POV**

Owww, I don't remember my head hurting this much when I woke up earlier... come to think of it, what did I do earlier? I know Dick was there, with Alfred too. Are they still here?

I open my eyes to see Damian standing beside my bed, looking down at me with his hands behind his back.

"Can I help you?" I ask him.

"You help me? You struggle to do that even when you're fit, Drake. No, I'm here to help you."

"No need, I know how to take care of myself," I reply as I attempt to leave my bed. Damian places a hand in front of me.

"Are you still delirious, Drake? Lie back down, now."

"Delirious? No, I was just going to get-"

"Tell me what you need, and I will retrieve it for you," he says as he cuts me off.

I sit back down on my bed, losing energy and patience for this.

"I need-"

"To stay hydrated, I know. I'll get you a glass of water, are you hungry also?"

"Yeah, and if you can grab some tissues as well that'd be gre-ACHOO!"

"Then I'll bring food and tissues as well, now lie down," he says as he stands there, waiting for me to follow his order. Which I do, too exhausted to argue at this point.

After Damian leaves, a smile creeps up on my face as I have a thought. He notices and gives me a suspicious look when he returns.

"What are you smiling about?" he asks as he holds a glass of water in front of me.

"I taught you this."

"Taught me what?" he replies, scowling at me now.

"How to take care of someone that's sick," I take the glass from him and drink a sip, "and now you're using that to take care of me, maybe even voluntarily?" I ask, but he doesn't answer, still scowling.

I reach over with my hand to try and ruffle his hair, but he gently grabs it and places it back on the glass of water.

"That's really sweet," I say.

There's a knock on the door.

"Oh... you're awake," Jason says as he enters the room.

"Yes he is, and he's your problem now," Damian replies as he shoves the box of tissues he brought into Jason's chest, "I've done my duty."

"Lucky brat, got the easy shift this time," Jason says as Damian leaves, closing the door behind him.

"Hey Jason, can you hand those tissues over here? Oh and can you help me with this bowl of bananas Damian gave me?"

"Bananas?" he asks as he tosses the box of tissues onto my bed, "why bananas?"

"Because that's what I gave him when he was sick probably. In hindsight they're a bad idea, hard to peel when you're feeling weak," I demonstrate by lifting my wobbly hands above the bowl, "but they were the only thing I knew was easy to grab in the kitchen last time."

"So you want me to peel them for you?" he asks as he picks up the bowl.

"That would be helpful, yeah."

"I suppose there are worse things you could ask me to do," he says as he peels one and hands it to me.

"Thanks," I reply. We carry on like that until I'm done eating.

As I lie back down and try to adjust my covers, I turn to look at Jason.

"What do you want?" he asks.

"Uh, can you help- Well... tuck me in, I guess?"

"Really?"

"It's just my arms and-"

"Fine," he cuts me off as he stands up and grabs the sheets, "Just try not to get sick too often, it's annoyingly hard to refuse requests when you look so-"

"Cute?" I ask, trying to hold in laughter.

"I was going to go with pathetic, but you keep dreaming," he says as he finishes tucking me in.

"Thanks."

"Whatever," he replies as he sits back down.

I close my eyes and try to get some rest, but I don't feel tired. So I release one arm from my covers and grab a book from the shelf next to my bed. I open it up and try to pick up where I left off, but find myself squinting as I try to make out the words. I blink a couple times, but it's no use, I close the book and look back to Jason. I must have been looking pathetic again as he asks-

"What now? I swear, I'm not going to give you a goodnight kiss."

"No," I chuckle, "I can't read right now, but I'm not tired enough to sleep. So I was thinking... maybe you could read this to me?"

He folds his arms in response, "I'm not going to read you a bedtime story."

"Please?" I ask, trying especially hard to look pathetic this time, even including a pout.

"Oh no, not you too! Why does everyone do that with their faces now... still, I'm not reading that book," he says as he grabs it from me and takes a look, "it sounds so boring. I've got way better stories to tell than this."

"Then tell me one."

He lets out a deep sigh, "Fine," he says as he puts my book back on its shelf, "I suppose there was this one case that was quite interesting..."

He recalls a story to me about a bank robbery he investigated, where the robber left no trace of their presence at the bank. At first, I keep interrupting him with questions about whether he checked for this and that, I expect him to brush them off and ask me who's telling the story here, but he answers them all and seems to really get into his own story. As he should, I find myself fascinated but asking less questions as it starts to get harder to keep my eyes open. I occasionally ask one to try and regain focus so I can hear the end of the story, but soon enough, I'm fast asleep.

* * *

 **Bruce's POV**

Why do people have to get sick on weekdays when I have to go to work? I ask myself in frustration as I walk towards Tim's room. Then by the time I get home, they're usually asleep for the night, without me having been there to comfort them at any point in the day. It makes me worry that they might think I don't care, I would if I was them. But not today, it's not that late, maybe Tim will still be awake.

I quietly open the door to Tim's room and frown as I see him fast asleep. Jason stands up from his chair and walks over to me.

"You taking over now?" he asks.

"I suppose so."

"Sweet, good luck," he says as he brushes past me.

I close the door and walk over to Tim's bed, looking over his peaceful sleeping form. I hope the others took good care of him. I sit down in the chair next to the bed and reach over to brush Tim's hair out of his eyes. Who am I kidding? Of course they did, they care about him as much as I do...

I'm taken out of my thoughts by a tired voice, "Bruce?"

I look at Tim, his eyes now half open as he gives me a great big grin, I return one of my own.

"Hello, Tim. How you feeling?"

"Pretty good right now, all things considered."

"Glad to hear it, have Alfred and your brothers been taking good care of you?"

"The best of care, even Damian, I'm a lucky guy," he says before letting out a sneeze.

I chuckle, "I'd hardly call being sick lucky."

"Well yeah, that part sucks. But I got to spend all day with my family, and now even you're here, I have the whole set."

"Sorry I wasn't around earlier, you know I would be if I could."

"Of course you would," he replies, "you don't have to feel guilty about a silly little thing like that. I know you care, Bruce, and I'm thankful for it every day."

"You have no idea how good that is to hear."

"Well you know what I'd love to hear? You reading that book over there," he says, pointing to his bookshelf.

"This one?" I ask as I pick up the book, "Didn't I recommend this to you?"

"Yup," he says before yawning, "I asked Jason to read it earlier, but he thought it looked boring. What does he know about good books though, right? He can tell a really interesting bank robbing story though..."

I make a mental note to ask Jason about that story later as I remove Tim's bookmark from the book. I start to read from the top of the page and by the time I get through four pages, I look at Tim and notice he's fast asleep again, this time with a smile on his face. I put the book back on the shelf and stand up to tuck him in. When I'm done, I plant a kiss on his forehead.

"Goodnight son, I love you."


End file.
